


when it's the end, our lives will make sense

by everafterlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Desert Island Fic, M/M, Orgies, Self-Indulgent, Smut, a bizarre cast of characters, emma and shailene are my wives so they sort of made it in here too, fluff sort of, harry and gemma are a music duo, i mean theyre stuck on an isand what do you expect, idk what else to tag, idk why i wrote it with payzer im sorry, it's gonna get hella graphic, like i said graphic in general, like the dialect is canadian, louis is a nursing student, mentions of death i guess, niall is ... i forget what niall is lmao, oh i think this is canadian, oh right niall is a flight attendant, ok tbh sophiam is the real deal for me but this is written with payzer, payzer is payzer, stuck on a fucking island, tbh this is going to get all kinds of gay, zayn is the pilot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2713190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everafterlarry/pseuds/everafterlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shamelessly self-indulgent desert island/plane crash au. calamity ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo chicken wieners. welcome to the slightly obscure world of a plane crash and inevitable deserted island. this is going to get graphic i suppose. lots of different types of gay (aka gay girls included) so if ya don't like then don't read!!!!! i'm doing this instead of my law homework lmao .... um anyways so im canadian aka the dialect is canadian but besides that i did EXTENSIVE research on this topic so i'm not entirely lazy!!! I'm sorry about the payzer btw. i wrote this ages ago and even though i've been sophiam af the whole time i wrote payzer??? idk?? the title is from a lights song!! and lastly i (((unfortunately))) don't own one direction or any other characters, ive also never been trapped on a deserted island, in a plane crash, or even on a plane!!!! this is fiction obviously. and without further ado, enjoy, my precious ducklings :))

So. Perhaps this wasn't what Harry had planned. This wasn't a stadium. Or an arena. Or even a fucking tiny theatre venue. 

But a military base is alright.

Better than that one bar in the outskirts of that French city. 

Really, anything is better than that bar. Harry would sooner perform to a bunch of strangers in a row of Port-A-Potties than that bar.

But anyways. Distracted. Harry is distracted and needs to not be distracted. Less he be left in the airport without his sister, Gemma. That's happened one too many times and he'd rather that not happen again, too. 

So Harry and Gemma are walking together in the airport, each lugging their luggage (wow, Harry loves sentences that sound like they're out of a children's picture book), and not talking. Harry knows Gemma is probably thinking about that girl in the last pub they played in. She was mysterious and intelligent, like a fox or some other sly animal. Harry thinks if the she was a he, he might be as dazed as Gemma. If only Mystery Girl had a penis.

A big penis.

Big and hard and gay.

Gay penis? Can penises be gay or is that a full-body thing? Maybe it's a mental thing? Mentally gay? 

Again. Distracted. These are not airport thoughts and one day he's not going to be so lucky when it comes to the fact that you can see everything in the jeans he wears. 

"Harry, we are walking in the wrong direction!" Gemma suddenly says, screeching and digging her cold fingers into Harry's arm.

Gemma is the best anti-distractant for Harry. Her voice is loud and calls attention to nearly every living thing on Earth. Harry spins on his heels, stumbling to follow Gemma to where she is briskly headed towards. Gemma is not taller than Harry, but when her strides are long and determined in all the ways Harry's aren't, she could easily be multiple feet taller.

"Why didn't you notice we were headed the wrong way! Dammit, Harry! If we miss our flight, I will inflict bodily harm on you!" Gemma threatens loudly, causing a few heads to turn.

"Totally not airport-appropriate, sis," Harry retorts, rolling his eyes.

"Hurry up, slow poke! I'm serious, we can't miss our flight! What if this is our big break?"

Gemma is always dreaming up when their big break will be. Nearly every gig. Harry loves and admires his sister, certainly, but fuck if she doesn't shut up about it.

The airport is crowded, as they always are, and Harry would really rather there not be so many babies. Harry has learned from flying so frequently. Babies in airports mean babies on airplanes, which obviously means he will spend the entire flight cursing unprotected sex and straight people. In fact, at this very moment there is a baby throwing up on a young boy who could hardly be six. Deviously, Harry hopes the baby throws up on its parents just so they feel bad for bringing it on the plane. 

Harry might even throw up on the baby's parents himself. It's not airplane jitters - he beat those years ago - it's the milk he drank on the way to the airport. Harry's been lactose intolerant since he was seven and, fuck, he misses milk and ice cream and yogurt.

Harry's stomach is gurgling loudly as he and Gemma approach airport security. 

"Think of dead animals and old lady vaginas," Gemma tells Harry as she nods toward the airport security man.

Harry would love to be able to form thoughts about things that distract every single drop of blood in his body from flowing to his southern estates, but it's helpless. He's thinking about sucking the cock of the security man as he pats Harry down formally. He's even stopped thinking about the fact that the milk has gone from his mouth to his rectum in a matter of 10 minutes. The airport security guy is tall, just like Harry likes them, with blonde hair, brown eyes, and - and a wedding band gleaming on his left hand.

Fuck. He needs to get laid. And to a toilet.

 

~~

 

Louis has been attending university for a little over a month now and he is not sure what to think of it. Of course he loves the social aspect of it, the workload is heavy but nothing he can't handle, and if he's being honest, it's nice to get away from his siblings for extended lengths of time. He loves them, he really does, but as the old saying goes: "too much of a good thing isn't good" (or something to that effect). 

His parents have been planning a family vacation to the Caribbean since January, to add to the list of exotic and foreign places they've taken a family vacation. His parents have very serious wanderlust, planning as many as five vacations a year, but that's not a bad thing for Louis. He's gotten blowjobs inside the Eiffel Tower, behind a palm tree in Hawaii, and on a sightseeing deck in the Swiss Alps (a blowjob with a view!), and this trip will... blow him away as much as the prior trips did.

Louis is absolutely not surprised to see so many babies in the airport (people are flying home for Thanksgiving now, prepared to show off what a sperm, an egg, and 40 weeks in a uterus can do). He's not even dispirited the way he usually is when the airport is so full of people with babies. His mind is set on one thing and one thing only - he's getting a blowjob from a beautiful Caribbean man on the equally as beautiful white sand beaches. His entire vacation depends on this, and if he's been telling Megan (his partner in all their nursing assignments) about the amazing blowjob he's sure to get, well, nobody needs to know.

The airport smells distinctly like fermented oranges and body odour, but he is a man on a mission, dammit. No bad scents will come between him and his exotic blowjob.

For the first time since Louis decided he was, in fact, gay, he doesn't hit on the security man. And that has nothing to do with the shiny gold band on his ring finger. 

(But maybe he does check him out shamelessly.)

(Maybe.)

 

~~

 

Harry boards the plane behind Gemma, stomach still making funny sounds, and practically lusting over the romance his ass will soon have with the plane's toilet. Gemma is babbling on about an idea for a new song she has, something that will astonish their massive fan base after their fast-approaching big break.

The idea sounds really good, actually, and Harry genuinely wishes he could focus over the rattling his abdominal organs have started inside him. He's sure his face is green at this point, maybe purple, potentially blue - some damn colour of the rainbow -  but regardless it earns a concerned look from the elderly lady across the aisle.

"Are you even listening to me?" Gemma whines, scowling at Harry.

Harry's face contorts, "half listening, sis. I swear I'm really interested but - milk. I drank milk."

Gemma's face is a mix of disgust (she's probably recalling the time Harry forgot to flush after he'd drank milk when he was eight, and she unfortunately used the toilet next) and amusement. Harry wants to strangle her, but right now he is pretty sure he might bottom out if they don't get to the stage where he can use the restroom quick enough. 

"You poor little shit," Gemma smirks. And oh, she thinks she's so comical, so fucking genius. If Harry's nails weren't digging into the armrests of his seat, they'd surely be clawing Gemma's pretty face.

"It's not funny!" Harry pouts.

"Yes, it is!" Gemma cackles. Cackles like a witch. Gemma is a witch.

"Fly the damn plane already," Harry hisses as a baby starts up its mating call.

This is going to be a long flight.

 

~~

 

Louis is seated, buckled, and reading the latest InTouch magazine (is Selena actually pregnant with Justin's baby? Does that timeline even work? What are these farcical straight celebrities up to these days?) when a young lady saddles up beside him. She has short, light brown hair, and brown eyes to match. She's petite even to Louis (rather, Louis is fun-sized, thank you very much), and smiles at him immediately, quickly glancing down at the cover of the rag mag.

"Ugh, do you believe she's pregnant? Tell me you don't," the girl rolls her eyes.

"It's just - yuck. Justin? She worked with James Franco. It's called standards, honey," Louis shakes his head.

"Agreed," the nameless girl buckles herself in and continues, "James Franco is a piece of ass I'd like."

"Same," Louis replies dreamily, thinking of a James Franco look-alike in the Caribbean gagging on his dick.

The girl blinks at Louis for a moment before asking if he's gay, to which Louis scoffs and replies, "straight men don't come this fabulous."

The spend the flight fanning themselves at the thought of this hot guy or that hot guy and Louis thinks he's found his temporary Megan replacement. He learns her name is Emma, she is a yoga instructor and she's going to The Bahamas to reach yoga at a resort. Louis tells Emma he is a nursing student, going to visit his parents and siblings at some Caribbean resort ("the Caribbean isn't an actual place? It's a bunch of islands? I feel like I've been lied to my entire life!"). And he might get excited and mention that he's also going to get his brain sucked out of his dick. He's on vacation now, he's allowed to get excited, sue him.

"Oh my actual God, you haven't seen live Chippendales?" Emma gapes. 

"No! I'm ashamed, honestly."

"Well there was this one time I went with my friends," Emma begins.

This is going to be the best flight ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> progressively longer chapters, this is my promise to you.

There is not one, but two babies behind Harry. He has a headache. And his ass hurts from the airplane toilet seat. He's never drinking milk again. 

Gemma is to his left, mocking him for his headache while she sits with ear plugs in. Gemma is the devil.

Fortunately for Harry, however, there's a flight attendant with blonde hair and blue eyes who keeps asking him if he needs anything. He is thinking about telling him he needs a blowjob. Blondie may or may not be gay, that is still a mystery to Harry, but he's attractive. If Blondie had brown eyes (like that fucking security man - Harry inwardly moans), that'd be the absolute best, but regardless he might finally get to join the Mile High Club. That is an upside to an otherwise shitty flight.

Maybe this flight won't be so awful after all.

 

~~

 

Louis and Emma have become fast friends in the short time they've been sitting on the plane. They fawn over men with ripped abs and nice arms (Louis loves nice arms), and gossip about the Kardashians and Beyonce (are Kim and Beyonce actually frenemies? This is vital information). 

Louis is disappointed by the lack of attractive male flight attendants ("Literally don't even breathe near me if you're not 6-foot-something with the body of a god.") and utter lack of good food. The turkey sandwich he ordered tasted like a mix of cardboard and last week's cat food.

Nevertheless, the flight is good. A few wailing babies here and there, but nothing will ruin his good mood. He is getting a blowjob when he gets to whatever island he's going to (he'll check his emails when he gets to the airport), and nothing will get in the way of that, god dammit.

Their landing can't come soon enough.

 

~~

 

Gemma is overly paranoid about a lot of things regarding airplanes. Harry wonders how on Earth she is still freaked out when they fly as often as rabbits bang. She gets worried about the turbulence and the well-being of other passengers, of cracks in the windows and the bottom of the plane falling off. Harry is constantly trying to reassure her that there is nothing to worry about. Planes fly all the time and wouldn't be flying of they were dangerous.

In spite of this, he is annoyed when Gemma starts commenting on the absurd swerving of the plane.

"Maybe the pilot is just trying to miss the birds," Harry shrugs.

Gemma rolls her eyes.

"We are going to die."

"No, we're not! Stop saying that, you're making the babies cry more."

Gemma rolls her eyes again. 

"I'm going to ensure that you can't make babies at all."

Harry rolls his eyes now.

"I think you're forgetting that two dicks don't make a baby."

Gemma huffs.

"One dick isn't going to make a baby either."

Harry rolls his eyes and doesn't reply. Gemma is so annoying.

Harry's staring at his fingernails, admiring the way they're still clean and not damaged from so much guitar-playing, when Gemma nudges him again. 

"I swear we just plummeted 30 feet, Harry," Gemma is digging her nails into the armrest now.

"It's punishment for being annoying."

"You absolute fucking ass, Harry! Do you not notice it, too?"

Gemma is wide-eyed and looks terrified. Harry is exasperated.

"Obviously not."

Harry goes back to contentedly at his fingernails when the plane starts to rattle a little. Gemma notices it - obviously - but so does nearly everyone else on the plane. Gasps and startled noises arise immediately from the passengers. 

"Everyone stay calm! This is natural!" Blondie says calmly.

"No, it's not!" Gemma hisses.

Harry is really turned on by how Blondie is able to be so casual in situations of apparent terror. He wants Blondie to suck his dick with the same sort of calmness and casualty. 

Everyone mostly calms down, going back to whatever the were doing (or shushing their screaming offspring, if they dumbly brought any aboard), except Gemma. Gemma is twitching in her seat, clawing at the armrests and insistently nudging Harry. 

"We're fine, sis. The flight attendant even says so."

Gemma makes a squawking noise, opens and closes her mouth a few times, then rolls her eyes. 

"You just want him to suck your dick, that's why you're listening to him! But really, we're all about to fucking die!"

Harry rolls his eyes. 

It doesn't take long before the plane starts to really rattle again, weird noises sounding in the engine, and passengers are causing a near-riot. 

"We are fine, everyone!"

The plane swoops a little downwards, and Harry admittedly has the wind knocked out of him, gasping a little from the pressure change.

"Fuck!" someone shouts from the other side of the plane.

After a few minutes, the plane stabilizes again and their flying pattern is much more even.

"The pilot probably fell asleep or something. We're fine," Harry says to Gemma.

"I'm going to kill that asshole the moment we land," Gemma glares toward where the pilot probably is in the cockpit.

Harry chuckles a little. 

Cockpit. 

Cockpit.

Cocks.

The pilot probably has a nice cock. 

Gemma wants to kill the pilot and waste a perfectly good cock? Not happening.

"No, Gemma, don't kill the fucking pilot. You can't say things like that on a plane!"

Gemma crosses her arms, staring stonily at the seat in front of her.

Harry leans back in his seat, ready to relax, when plane starts plummeting again, angling forward and speeding up.

"What the fuck!?" Someone shouts at a nearby flight attendant.

The plane is tipping everyone out of their seats, Harry included. Gemma screams from her seat, and fuck, does that girl have a set of pipes on her or what. Harry tries to clamp his hand over her mouth, but she doesn't seem fazed.

"You're worse than the babies, sis! Shut up!"

Gemma really is worse than the babies. Her screams are louder, far more projected, and she has the lungs of singer. Which makes sense, considering she is a singer. But fuck.

Fuck.

The plane doesn't correct itself, doesn't realign, and flight attendants are speechless as they are knocked forward. 

The pilot's intercom comes on, making a high-pitched static noise that could deafen people, if they weren't already deaf from Gemma.

Harry's heart is in his throat. Gemma was freaking out and he didn't listen and, stupidly enough, he is reminded of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. But that's neither here nor there at the moment, considering the plane is descending rapidly and it's almost as if the pilots are all dead. Why the fuck aren't they doing something?

Something resembling the mating call of a pterodactyl comes from the intercom, and Harry panics. 

Was that the fucking pilot? 

Gemma stop screaming and turns to face Harry. 

"I love you, Harry. You're the best brother I could ever ask for. I'm so happy we could do this music thing together. If you see mom again, tell her I love her."

"I love you, too, Gemma," Harry replies, and no, he's not fucking tearing up right now. "You're an amazing sister. The best. Your songwriting is, ugh, the best. And if you ever see mom again, tell her I love her. Oh, and it was me who stole your vibrator when you were in tenth grade."

"What!" Gemma looks pretty pissed about that considering she's on death's fucking doorstep.

There's a crash, a splash, and screams and Harry hits his forehead on the seat in front of him from the impact.

He tries desperately to cling to wakefullness, to breathe steady, while Gemma lets out a blood-curdling scream from somewhere beside him. She sounds injured.

Fuck.

 

~~

 

Louis and Emma curl into balls on their seat as the plane starts to rapidly descend. 

"Unbuckling now will give us a better chance of survival, especially considering how we're going to be in the middle of the damn ocean," Louis had said.

And unbuckle they did.

The couple beside them followed his advice, unbuckling and balling up, too. 

Louis had learned their names were Liam and Danielle. They were married about half a year ago, and now they'd taken six months off to stay in the Bahamas. 

Louis feels bad for them, because they're probably going to die.

Well. He's probably going to die, too.

He feels fucking sorry for himself.

He's going to die without getting a blowjob from a hot Caribbean man. Louis thinks he must've fucked up pretty bad in a past life to deserve this. Has he really fucked up that bad in this life to deserve it?

"I broke my mom's favourite plate set when I was seven and blamed it on my sister!" Louis shouts, with his head buried in his lap. "I flushed my sister's tampons down the toilet when she first got her period! I stole a pack of condoms from the pharmacy in tenth grade! I fed my little brother his own goldfish three years ago!"

"I sold my mom's wedding ring on eBay for pot money and Coldplay concert tickets!" Emma cries, with her head buried into the space between her knees and her chest, too.

Louis lifts his head from his lap.

"That's genius."

Emma looks up, too, sniffling, "I know. But we're dying now and that's why."

Louis rests his head back in the little space, continuing to shout out past sins, with Emma adding some of her own a few times.

Louis and Emma killed everyone on this plane. 

"Forgive me, for I have sinned! But do not kill me because of it!" Louis is shaking like a chihuahua. 

"I'm too young to die!" someone shouts from a few seats ahead of him.

Flight attendants are stumbling, falling, and even rolling around. The pilot comes on the intercom to make the noise of a tortured bird, then it's obvious they've landed.

They don't land in the way Louis was excited for them to land when he first boarded the plane. They are obviously submerged in water, with windows cracked from the impact, many passengers injured (should Louis do something about that? He's not really a good nurse, he's just training to be one. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can't help anyone), and the smell of fried plane engine.

Some fucking vacation this is.

Louis is definitely crying. He doesn't care. He's probably seconds away from death, whether or not he cried beforehand is irrelevant.

 

~~

 

Harry is being yanked around, dragged along like a ragdoll when he finally comes to. 

"What?" He mumbles, with a headache from the deepest depths of Hell.

"We're alive!" Gemma shouts, sounding immensely exhausted.

And, no, that does nothing to help his headache.

Looking around, he appears to be slung over Gemma's back, and not to have been unconscious for long. People, survivors, are still mulling about, trying to dislodge themselves from the plane's wreckage. Gemma is trying to dislodge their luggage. A bright pink and white polka dotted suitcase is the first thing Gemma finds. Harry tries to read the name tag but Gemma is jerking him around too much. 

Blondie swims up to them, a large gash on his forehead and a lump swelling on the left side of his head, seemingly favouring his right arm, but nonetheless still afloat. 

"Guys, you guys!" Blondie sounds terribly exhausted, as well. Harry is too upset, too sore, to fantasize about a blowjob. 

"Hey," Gemma half-smiles, but it looks like more effort than it's worth. "Can you help? I want to salvage as much as possible and find solid ground quickly."

"I think my wrist is broken, but I'll do what I can."

"Take Harry, then. I'll get the bags."

Blondie smiles up at Harry, turning so he can maneuver onto his back. The switch from back to other back is sloppy and it takes a solid effort for Harry's neck to remain upright. He thinks he may've broken it.

After Harry is situated, Gemma begins rummaging through the compartment again. Harry never ceases to be amazed at Gemma's quick thinking. She is very prepared for this. Harry thinks if he didn't have his sister, he'd be floating around in the ocean as shark food by now.

That is a little worrying, and he starts to dwell on it when Blondie speaks, "So I'm Niall."

"Like the river?" Gemma grunts as she yanks another bag free.

Niall laughs, "No, no, like the - like, um - not like the river."

Harry laughs a little.

"I'm Gemma, and that's my little brother, Harry."

"Hey!" Harry whines. "I'm not little. I'm bigger than you."

"I saved your ass and now you're getting a piggyback. You're little."

Harry rolls his eyes immaturely but doesn't explicitly respond. He's not little. 

Gemma frees hers and Harry's suitcases, Niall saying to nevermind his, and then they take off away from the plane. Niall is still piggybacking Harry, and Gemma is lugging the three suitcases. The ocean water is freezing, and Harry can't help but wonder how the fuck people swim in this willingly.

Beyond them, to the right, two tiny specks of people swim in the same direction as them. 

"Where the fuck are we going to go!?" Gemma whines.

Harry catches Niall staring at Gemma a couple of times, and he is more distraught than he should be. Does this mean Niall isn't gay? Why isn't Niall gay? Hasn't he seen dick before? 

Harry is sad about this guy not liking cock. This is his life.

Then again, if he's stuck for any length of time with him, he really would like this guy to be gay.

Fuck. How is this his life?

 

~~

 

Louis, Emma, Liam, and Danielle survive.

Fuck, Louis is relieved. 

He would've felt like anyone's death was on his hands. Even though it'd be on the fucking pilots' hands, he'd live with a guilty conscious. 

But anyways, Louis is thankful that they all curled into balls, because they seem to be virtually unscathed. Emma is a trooper, dealing with this in the most actual-factual way she can, and Louis is also thankful for that. Danielle is sobbing, body-racking sobs, and Liam is attempting to console her from where they all sit, lop-sided and floppy in their seats, watching the water rise around them.

"We need -" Emma takes a deep breath. "We need to smash a window and escape before we drown."

"Smash with what?" Liam whispers, running his fingers through Danielle's thick hair.

"Our feet?" Emma shakes her head and rubs her temples. "I don't know."

Louis's eyes scan the cabin, looking for something to smash the window with. He starts panicking when all he sees is lifeless body after lifeless body. He wants to know if they're dead or just unconscious, but now really isn't the time to investigate.

Louis's search lands his eyes upon a red blob submerged in the steadily increasing water. He squints - what is that? Can he use it?

A fire extinguisher.

Technically all this water would extinguish any fire, but it'll be heavy and their only option.

"There's a fire extinguisher at the front," Louis says, pointing towards the red.

Louis looks at Liam as he nods at him. Then Liam looks to Emma, nodding down toward Danielle. It doesn't take Emma long to figure it out. Louis takes a few seconds longer.

"Whoa, whoa! Okay, I'm not going into the water to get the fire extinguisher! I refuse to."

Emma rolls her eyes, "Please?"

Louis rolls his eyes back, mocking her, "You go. This body is fragile."

Liam scoffs, "Good luck surviving out in the ocean, then, man."

Louis purses his lips. Fuck, he thought he left peer pressure behind in high school.

They rearrange, Emma being Danielle's soother, and Liam and Louis wading into the water to take the fire extinguisher. The water is cold and tainted red with the blood of other people. Louis is disgusted and sick to his stomach. What kind of fucking pilot lets this happen?

Liam works on unfastening the extinguisher while Louis crosses his arms.

"Is Danielle going to be okay?" Louis asks.

"She's - she's shocked, I think. And there's a nasty gash on her leg, but I don't know where it came from."

Louis swallows deeply. What the fuck is going to happen to them?

Finally, Liam frees the extinguisher from wall and the two boys wade back to where Emma is cradling a weeping Danielle. 

So, Danielle did not come out unscathed? What the fuck.

Shifting around the girls, Liam hits the window repeatedly trying to smash it open. Louis stands back, in the aisle, trying to keep his balance.

"Hey! Hey!" Someone shouts to them. 

Louis looks around frantically until he sees where the voice came from. 

Leaning in from the slanted roof of the plane, in a large hole, is a girl with long brown hair and a worried look on her face.

"The windows won't smash with that. C'mon!"

Liam drops the fire extinguisher like it's on fire (which is incredibly ironic in so many ways) and looks to Louis, who just shrugs.

Liam picks up Danielle, and Emma and Louis walk together up the aisles to where the girl peers in. Louis's stomach is in knots. He's never been very athletic, aside from volleyball, and he's really afraid he won't be able to make it all the way up and out the hole. Liam seems strong though, so maybe he'd lift Louis. The thought of Liam manhandling Louis - for whatever reason, and despite the fact that has wife is inconsolable right there with them - stresses Louis out. Now is not the time for a hard on. 

Emma makes the first move to exit. She steps on the back of two seats, then grasps the edge of the hole and pulls herself up. Curse her flexible and agile body. 

The girl, their saviour, pulls Emma up with one arm. Louis thinks her arms are thin and noodly. There's no fucking way he's going to make it up there. From somewhere behind them someone groans, obviously in a lot of pain, and Louis freezes. He can't stay with dying, zombie-noise-making people. 

Fuck.

Fuck everything.

Next, Liam hoists Danielle up. Louis thinks it looks a lot like the scene in The Lion King where Rafiki lifts Baby Simba up for the whole world to see, despite these circumstances. The Saviour takes Danielle's outstretched hand and pulls her up and out, too.

Louis swallows. Is he next?

Like clockwork, Liam turns to Louis and nods up to where The Saviour is leaning back in. "You're next, man."

Louis takes a deep breath. The air is heavy with the smell of gas and saltwater and death. 

Following Emma's moves (because there's no way he's going to ask Liam to hoist him up, too), Louis steps on the back of a seat, then another, and finally takes ahold of the edge.

This is really not the grand exit he'd desired to take.

Emma and The Saviour lean in to grab ahold of his shoulders as he attempts to pull himself up. 

This is why working out is so important.

Hands grab the backs of Louis's thighs, and Louis looks down to see Liam smiling at him like it's nothing.

Totally not the right thoughts to have right now.

It's just that Louis has never really trained his brain. He thinks whatever the fuck he wants, whenever the fuck he wants. That's probably not going to be a good thing anymore.

If it ever was.

Which it wasn't.

But anyways.

With the assistance of the three of them, plus Louis straining to lift himself on his own, he manages to flop like a fish and land up on the wing of the plane.

Danielle is sitting cross-legged, no longer crying but still shaking. That's a good sign.

Maybe things will be okay.

Liam pulls himself up, rushing to sit with Danielle, while Louis stares out at sea.

The ocean is very blue.

It reminds him of his own eyes. He loves the colour of his eyes. It's good to love yourself. So sue him.

"Okay, I've found a little lifeboat. It's our only hope, I think. We're going to have to get out and find land. Y'know, since the plane is sinking and all that jazz," The Saviour explains.

Louis still doesn't know her name but right now he's far more concerned about getting the hell away. What if the plane blows up? Is that possible? Louis is probably going to have a panic attack.

Emma smiles a little at Louis.

Louis smiles back.

Reassurance. He's going to need a lot of that. 

 

~~

 

The two specks from earlier get less speck-sized as Gemma and Niall paddle themselves, the suitcases, and Harry along. Harry feels dizzy and queasy. His head pounds like the bass at a party he'll probably never attend again. 

Because obviously he's still about to die.

Out here in this big fucking vast ocean.

It doesn't look this dangerous on postcards.

Fuck.

But still, as the specks grow closer and larger, more human-like, Harry sees that they're a woman and a small child.

Fuck. 

Harry's throbbing brain groans.

The woman, presumably the mother, has long lavender hair, but looks more like a hapless drowned rat at the moment. The little kid is a girl, small with fine blonde hair and the same leopard print shirt as her mother. The kid rides on her mom's shoulders, grasping onto her mother's hair worriedly. 

Harry really, really doesn't like kids but even more so he hates sadness. Especially on kids. The look on the little girl's face is pure sadness. 

Harry is sad.

"Hey!" Niall shouts to them.

"Hey! Are you okay!?" Gemma yells, too.

The woman swims over to the three of them, looking panicked and ill. Join the fucking club, lady.

Harry grips tighter to Niall's shoulders.

"Hey," the breathless woman forces a smile.

"I'm Gemma," Gemma introduces, smiling up at the little girl. "Harry's my brother, he's riding Niall, who has joined us."

The woman eyes Harry and Niall, nodding. "You're that flight attendant, right?"

At first Harry thinks she's talking to him, so he opens his mouth, but Niall talks over him. 

"Yep. Unfortunately."

The woman smiles a little.

"I'm Lou, this is my daughter, Lux."

Harry shuts his eyes, lulls to the feeling of Niall's legs treading the water beneath his legs.

"I - I don't know what to do," Lou whimpers, and Harry can see she's trying to hold back tears.

"We're trying to find land. We'll be fine," Niall smiles (and Harry does, too, at the thought of that rhyming so cheerfully).

But they won't be fine, Harry's sure. There's not a millimetre of land in sight. It's all vast, open ocean.

They start to swim off, treading the water and squinting from the bright sun.

"At least it's a nice day," Gemma says conversationally to Niall.

Niall nods in agreement.

But there's no fucking upside to this. Rain or shine, their plane just crashed and they're stranded in the middle of the damn ocean.

And what about sharks?

Fuck, the saltwater is making Harry's headache worse. Everything is making it worse.

 

~~

 

Louis, Emma, Liam, Danielle, and The Saviour (they still don't know her name, fuck) have been in the lifeboat for a really long time. No one's phone works after being drenched, so the time is all approximated. Though, it's probably been a few hours.

They're far enough out that the plane is hardly visible by the naked eye. Louis just wants to get as far from the plane as possible. 

However, being as far from the plane as possible means to be out in the most exposed way possible. Louis would rather walk around campus naked. (Maybe because that's already happened and this is definitely far worse. Maybe.) They're almost all guaranteed to be sunburnt. 

Danielle and Liam seem to be in their own world, disgusting yet so adorable. Louis might just jump overboard.

Louis, Emma, and The Saviour stay silent. At least there's a nice view if they're stuck out here forever.

(Fuck, forever is a long time and Louis is terrified.)

"So, what're your names?" The Saviour finally asks.

Louis hadn't wanted to ask, but wanted to know.

"I'm Emma," Emma says.

"Louis."

"And that's Liam and Danielle. I don't know whether to be jealous or puke," Emma whispers, as if Liam and Danielle were listening anyways. 

"I think I'm going to be jealous, honestly. I'm Shailene," The Saviour smiles.

"Shailene, Shai-upright," Louis says without thinking.

Emma and Shailene burst into giggles. 

"I've never had anyone say that!"

"Get used to it, Louis speaks without thinking," Emma says with a smirk.

"I do not! I am wounded!" Louis protests.

Emma laughs. "Sure, sure."

Shailene stares between the two of them, smiling as they banter.

"How long have you two been together?" Shailene asks.

"Oh," Emma's eyes widen. "We're not dating!"

Louis laughs. "I'm as straight as a circle, honestly."

Shailene smiles. "Oops."

 

~~

 

Lux has been whining that she's hungry or tired or bored or something for twenty years now. Harry is going to fucking drown her. 

They've been swimming along in the middle of butt fuck nowhere for too long. Harry is going to get a sunstroke. He doesn't mean to complain, really, because at least he's not dead. But. How does he even wind up like this?

"We should've stayed with the plane in case rescue people came," Harry says for the fifth time.

"Harry, I love you, but shut up. We've already told you, it was sinking and we need land."

"I can't even count the number of times I've peed my pants already," Harry says casually.

Niall squawks. "Not cool, man. Not cool."

Harry thinks it's very funny.

Harry perhaps needs to be medicated because he's feeling slightly loopy right now.

Harry shuts his eyes for a little while, but doesn't fall asleep. His head is aching, his brain rattling in his skull as Niall jerkily swims him along. The sun is beating down on them, blinding but not warm enough to heat the freezing water.

"I'm probably going to die of hypothermia," Harry whines.

"Don't you even talk about dying, man," Niall retorts.

Harry rolls his eyes behind his eyelids.

The five of them swim along for what could be hours or years (time is an illusion, Harry thinks) until Lou gasps.

"Something - something in the distance, I think!"

"I think so, too!" Niall exclaims.

Harry groans at all the hooping and hollering. 

"Harry, Harry! There's something in the distance!" Gemma squeals. 

"Cool."

Harry would likely be far more thrilled if he had been lugging suitcases and people along. Even so, he's still excited. His head is in agony and he's thirsty and tired. Solid ground and shade would be the equivalent to heaven right now.

The land can't come soon enough.

 

~~

 

The crew of the five of them crash onto the shore of a small island while the stars are in the sky and the moon is high. The wind on the little island is nonexistent, and, fuck, is Louis thankful. He's been sitting in a small lifeboat for too many hours, wind is not the kind of blowjob he wants.

The sand is warm, despite the coolness of the water's spray. A few exotic-sounding birds chirp here and there, but the island is generally silent. Looking around, Louis thinks he could probably do fifty lunges across the island and fall right off the other edge. It's a good thing Louis doesn't lunge. Ever.

Liam and Emma pull the lifeboat onto the shore, away from the tide, while Danielle, Shailene, and Louis start to curl up under a palm tree.

Emma walks up to the three of them, hands on hips and says, "I think it's too dangerous to sleep under a palm tree. Falling coconuts can kill."

No one listens, so Emma just curls up beside Louis. Shailene is already fast sleep, limp and heavy breathing from where she lays. Danielle pulls Liam down to cuddle and Louis looks away. 

This is probably the beginning of the rest of his celibate life. There are far more important things to think of at the moment, but for now all Louis can think of is this. He will spend the rest of his life not only stuck on this island but also stuck with no one to love him but his right hand. 

It takes a while, but eventually Louis falls asleep. He's never felt so stressed and panicked in his entire life. 

 

~~

 

Niall rolls on shore, Harry still on his back, while it's still dark. The sun is peaking up behind the horizon infinitesimally, but nonetheless the sky is still cloaked in darkness. 

Gemma slugs the heavy suitcases up onto dry land and Lux clambers off of Lou's shoulders.

Harry surveys the and, looking around, when he spots a heap of people sleeping around a palm tree.

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck.

A million times fuck.

Do these people own this land? Maybe they can get them the hell off the island if they have phones. 

Harry's glad he didn't see any of the bodies he knows are lying in the plane wreckage and floating around lifelessly. On the contrary, looking at this heap of unmoving bodies resembles what Harry imagines the inside of the plane looks like. His stomach is queasy. 

How did this happen to him? How is this his fucking life?

Gemma drops down beside the suitcases, pulling her left pant leg up. Harry can already see from the outside of her jeans that her leg has been injured, bleeding and seeping through the material.  

Harry drops down beside her, watching as Niall helps Lou and Lux find a comfortable, safe place to sleep. They walk away from the heap of people, deciding to sleep under their own palm tree. Harry continues to look around, if only to avoid looking at his sister's injury. He takes note that the island is small, he could walk from end to end in a matter of minutes, and that the breeze is nearly nonexistent. Considering he's been in freezing water, he is very thankful. That must be the forgiveness the Gods have given in return for their day spent swimming for survival after a fucking airplane crash.

"Fuck, my leg hurts," Gemma says, biting her lip.

And Harry imagines it certainly does, too. 

There's a long, deep cut from just below her knee to midway down her shin. It's bright red, angry, and filled with little grains of sand and glistening with the saltwater.

Harry's never had much of a weak stomach, but this makes him want to be sick. 

"What should we clean it with?" Harry asks quietly, careful not to wake anyone.

"I don't know! I'm not a nurse!" Gemma is irritated.

Harry purses his lips and tries to think.

"What if we wrap it in something from inside one of those suitcases?"

Gemma nods. "Let's try it. Just a quick fix until morning so we can sleep. Everything in my body aches."

Harry fetches one of his plain white shirts from his rescued suitcase, and ties it to Gemma's shin.

"It's been a long day," he sighs, wishing they had some ibuprofen. 

"Go to sleep. Niall and the girls are over there," Gemma says nodding to where Niall, Lou, and Lux lay sleeping. 

Harry obeys, flopping onto the sand and signing. Niall stirs in his sleep a little and eventually Gemma lays beside him. Harry's thankful that they've always been pretty close, used to sharing a bed in a cheap hotel room while touring, because Gemma's body heat as she lays on his arm is helping to warm him. 

Harry is fucking terrified out here.


	3. Chapter 3

Day one on the island starts out groggily for Louis. A palm tree leaf falls down as the sun is creeping up, and tickles him in the face. Louis nearly wets himself in fear. Emma was worried about the coconuts. Fuck the coconuts, it's the leaves that are a danger.

Louis sits up, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, scanning the premises.

Right.

His plane crashed on his way to visit his family and now he's stuck on a deserted island with some strangers he met on the doomed flight.

What's more, is that there seems to be more people on the island now. They're laying beneath a different palm tree, a few metres across the island, slumped and asleep. Louis's stomach turns at how frighteningly everyone looks like the dead and severely injured that were left behind on the plane. He calms himself down, repeating in his head that he is safe, he is alive, and these people are too. 

Emma is still sound asleep to his right, and Shailene to his left. It almost looks like the scene of a wild party he'd once been to, except that Emma and Shailene would've been men, not women, in his scenario. Idly, Louis wonders if he'll ever attend another party again. He knows he's only been on his island for a few hours, but Louis is thinking realistically here. How many people get off deserted islands? What are the chances?

He's sure the chances of actually getting on one are so slim in the first place that the chances of getting off one are even slimmer. 

Why is the world so terrifying? Louis was not made for this.

A little to Shailene's left, Liam and Danielle are cuddled together. Louis may never admit aloud, but they're adorable. He's happy they have each other, and that they're so happy to just exist around one another. He and Megan would often fantasize about finding The One. Louis loves being a free man, but would also love to look into someone's eyes and feel as if no one in the world exists but them. He imagines that's how Liam and Danielle must feel. Naturally, he's a little jealous, but no one needs to know.

He realises he's pulling an Edward Cullen right now - staring at people as they sleep - so he gets up to investigate the newcomers.

The newcomers are cuddled asleep the same way Louis's crew of people are. There are two men (Louis once read that one in every three men are gay, so logically with these two and Liam, that's three. He's elated to think one of these men just might like cock, too), two women, and a small girl. The girl asleep on the arm of one of the men look eerily similar to Megan and that makes Louis's skin crawl.

The little girl is curled into her mom, and despite the hair colour differences, they look like bigger and smaller versions of each other. There's a blonde boy on his back to the right of the mother-daughter duo, then the two that look like a couple. Judging by the physical similarities, Louis is going to go ahead and assume they're siblings, if not for the fact that this guy is drop-dead gorgeous and Louis hopes he's single (and gay). Their hair colours are the same brown and despite their closed eyes, their faces would be completely identical if their hairstyles were the same.

His eyes shift back over to the little girl, who reminds him fondly of his youngest sister. 

Louis wonders how his family are doing, what they're doing, and if they've learned that he's probably not going to be attending this vacation. 

His eyes shift back to the brown-haired boy. He's pretty sure he didn't die, but he is sure he's staring at an angel.

He's wearing a plain white v-neck, tight black jeans (how the fuck do his balls breathe in those? Louis balls ache at the mere sight), and boots. He looks like a god, and Louis is nearly drooling. He's hot. His hair has tiny little curls at the ends, and Louis wants to twirl his fingers through them. Louis also wants to curl into his side and fall back asleep.

Louis's eyes focus on the boy's face again, and that's a mistake.

Fuck.

He's staring sleepily up at Louis, a quizzical look on his face. 

"Oops," Louis mumbles. 

"Hi," the Angel Boy smiles cheekily.

Angel Boy shuts his eyes again, rolling towards his girlfriend-sister and seems to fall back asleep.

Embarrassed, Louis walks away.

 

**

 

Shailene is the first one to wake up after Louis, and approaches him where he sits on the shore. The waves are more violent than on a typical beach, but still calm. There's a bit of a breeze, and from what Louis knows about water, this will be a normal occurrence.

"Hey," she smiles as she sits beside him.

Louis socks and shoes are off and his jeans rolled up halfway to his knees. He feels like he looks like something from a lame crooner music video. 

"Hey," Louis replies.

"Are you okay? I'm hungry."

Louis's extended index finger draws random shapes in the sand while the rest of him stares out to sea.

"I'm okay. Hungry, too."

"Do you think we'll be okay? Like, make it off the island?"

"Yeah. I can't imagine they'd just leave us. I'm sure they'll search for us and take us home."

Shailene doesn't reply, but Louis turns in time to see her nod. She is absently staring out to the vast ocean as well. There's an odd expression on her face, one that Louis can't figure out and won't dwell on. Everyone is stressed, that's common knowledge.

"So, we've got more friends, I see," she says after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," Louis is not thinking of Angel Boy. Absolutely not. "More mouths to feed and people to heal."

Louis is thinking of feeding something to Angel Boy, but he's not going to tell that to Shailene.

"More heads to stick together; ideas and whatnot. The more the merrier."

"We'll be fine," Louis says. "Anyways, I'm going to look for food. Could you help?"

"Sure."

And that's that. Louis did not crash in a plane to let himself starve to death. Let no man (or woman) say Louis Tomlinson doesn't work hard.

 

~~

 

When Harry wakes up, he is horribly disoriented. His bedroom at home doesn't have a skylight. His sister doesn't sleep in his bed. Who is this strange man to his left?

Oh.

Right.

Plane crash, deserted island, the whole package.

He's thankful his headache has gone away. The throbbing that pounded within his skull has finally calmed and relaxed. It must've been a minor concussion. 

He thinks he remembers waking up some unit of time ago and seeing a boy. Perhaps one of the ones he saw last night in the other pile of people? Perhaps, perhaps.

Carefully, trying not to rouse Gemma, Harry slips his arm from underneath her head. He smiles a little, because her mascara is smeared and she looks like a raccoon, then stands up and brushes himself off. He can feel the sand in all his nooks and crooks (what a disgusting feeling, really).

As he begins to walk around, he accidentally kicks poor Niall, who immediately sits up from his sleep. Niall looks alert, like a watchdog startled from its sleep.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles.

"You okay?" 

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah, man. I've gotta piss like a racehorse, though."

Harry nods slowly. He didn't think their friendship was at that point yet, but he supposes it might as well be, considering they're stuck on an island together. Harry's not usually one for boundaries anyways.

Niall sits up slowly, walking towards the shore all creaky-boned. Harry follows. Harry isn't sure why he follows, but he does.

"I'm hungry," Harry says, staring out to the blue. It looks like it'll be another sunny, clear day today.

"Me, too," Niall says as he unzips the zipper to his suit. (Poor Niall has to wear a suit on an island. How utterly hapless.) Harry trains his eyes on the sea in order to avoid sneaking a peek.

When Niall's done emptying his bladder, the two men decide to start looking for food. Niall says he knows a lot about Caribbean islands and the sort of thing that grows in them.

"Like what ?" Harry asks curiously.

"Bananas, coconuts, citrus fruits. We'll find a lot of fruits out here. And there are fish in the water."

Harry nods. Fruits. He can deal with fruits. He's never been a fan of fish, but he supposes this isn't the place to be a picky eater.

"What about water? We can't drink salt water."

"I don't know, man. We can drink coconut milk." 

Harry's eyes widen as he envisions himself drinking milk and being stranded on a deserted island. Fuck.

"Yeah," he mumbles. 

He'll perhaps die of thirst out here. Natural selection.

**

Their hands are full of bananas and grapefruit found on the other side of the island when they return to their new sleeping quarters. Gemma is now awake, talking with someone from the other group of people, and Lou is soothing Lux. Lux appears to be inconsolable, unfortunately, and Harry can't help but wonder why. The other people from the other group are awake, too, eating food that Harry and Niall didn't bring back. 

"Ah, they found the mangoes," Niall observes. 

Right. Of course they did. All their hard work scavenging for nothing.

 

~~

 

Liam is apparently a very good director. He's instructed everyone to sit together and have something resembling a meeting. Liam tells everyone they need to introduce themselves and then come up with a plan of action. 

Louis learns that Angel Boy is named Harry, and the woman he was sleeping beside was, in fact, his sister. Louis sighs in relief then covers it up as a yawn. He is one step closer to actually, potentially having passengers on the gay train. Gemma is Harry's sister, who sits beside Niall, the blonde guy he recognises as a flight attendant, and the mother-daughter duo are Lou and Lux, respectively. There is a collective groan when everyone realises there's a Lou and a Louis, and a Gemma and an Emma. Louis just knows he's going to be so confused for the next few days.

After everyone has introduced themselves, Danielle asks if she can lay down. Louis swallows thickly. He's probably the only one here with any real medical knowledge, aside from Emma and Niall who know CPR. Danielle's face is pale, colourless, and Louis knows that's not good. He knows there's a gash in her leg - though he hasn't seen it yet - and he knows she threw up after eating this morning. 

Apparently, Gemma also has an injured leg, but she appears to be in much better condition than Danielle. Gemma's leg is wrapped in one of Harry's old shirts, she says, and she figures she'll just wash the wound and be fine.

"Louis's in medical school. He can be our temporary nurse," Emma says, after everyone's silently watched Danielle limp back to where she slept last night.

Everyone turns to eye Louis.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Liam asks. He looks a little angry but mostly just worried. And rightfully so.

"I - I don't know," Louis sighs.

He knows why he didn't mention it. He doesn't want to deal with this. He wants off the fucking island.

"Can you check on Danielle?" Louis wants to say no, but Liam looks like he's on the verge of tears and he imagines Liam could probably crush him if provoked.

"We need to find fresh water, for wound cleaning and whatnot," Louis says.

"Oh! Perfect. Emma and I found this little pond this morning. It's small, but it's not saltwater," Shailene announces, Emma nods in agreement.

"I saved some coconut shells from this morning," Niall says. "I'll go get them, we can fill them up."

People start offering to pitch in, getting this and that. Lou says she's going to take Lux for a walk, she just needs a bit of space, and no one argues with that. The two can't really go far or get lost due to the size of the island anyways. 

Louis watches Harry unzip a suitcase (and wonders how the fuck it got here), the muscles in his arm flexing as he moves about. Louis loves nice arms. Harry has nice arms. Louis is perhaps a little screwed.

Emma and Niall get the water in the coconut shells, and Louis pours it over the wound in Danielle's thigh. She resists taking her pants off at first, insisting she's fine, but Louis tells her that he's gay anyway, and she's not okay, so this is necessary. Liam whispers something in her ear, and she finally relents. 

The gash is deep. Louis assumed it would be, judging by the hole in her jeans. However, this is deeper than Louis (and apparently anyone else) was expecting. There's dried blood inside and all around it, which washes out as soon as the water makes contact. The edge all around the wound, about two centimetres from where the crevice of the wound caves in and moving outward, is a ring of fuchsia. Louis thinks it's a really nice colour, looks great with her skin tone, but would absolutely never say that.

The water also washes out sand and miniscule pieces of seaweed. It's probably a good thing Louis doesn't have a weak stomach, because this is repulsive. 

After the cut is cleaned, Louis wraps in it an old shirt of Harry's (which he forces himself not to smell first, if only for the fact that everyone is sitting in a circle around them watching). 

Danielle complains of fatigue, so everyone let's her sleep. Lux also complains of being tired, so she snuggles in beside Danielle so that Lou can continue to help everyone. Louis pretends not to notice the way that Liam smiles so warmly at the sight of the two. How unfortunate would it be for Danielle to get pregnant while they're all sadly stuck here.

**

Harry's idea is to build a latrine, and everyone laughs a little. It's the first idea he's really contributed, but Louis still thinks it's wise.

"I, personally, would not like to watch someone shit in the middle of nowhere. A designated spot is a good idea," Louis says, nodding his head.

"Well, let's see your shovels, then," Gemma retorts, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"We're Neanderthals now. We dig with our hands," Harry bangs his fists to his chest, making ape noises and Louis is laughing before he realises what he's doing.

Louis's not in love after only a few hours.

Charmed, perhaps, but not in love.

"I'll help build the latrine," Liam offers.

Harry smiles at Liam, and Louis's chest absolutely does not spark with jealously.

"I'll help, too," Louis says, smiling at Harry.

"Louis, why don't you help Niall build some sort of shelter?" Emma suggests.

And, oh. He sees how it is. Emma is a cockblock. Emma probably has the hots for Harry too, and now they're going to have to fight for him. 

Louis glares at Emma, but smiles to Niall (Louis wants smiles and Niall to always go together, he loves the way it sounds).

"I'll help build the latrine, too," Shailene announces, smiling at Louis and Niall.

Niall nods and whispers something to Shailene, who is standing beside him.

"Lou, Gemma, and Emma can gather food," Liam says, looking at the women for approval.

They all nod, and it's settled. 

Louis won't be working with Harry, won't be getting to know him. Louis is disappointed.

But he'll get over it, he's sure.

**

Considering Niall is a flight attendant, Louis figures he'll know about the search-and-rescue details, if a plane were to ever crash.

Niall doesn't know.

Louis is baffled. How could Niall not know? Isn't that in the job description?

"Technically, my job is the equivalent to someone who delivers room service at a hotel. So, no, I don't know what to do in the event of a plane crash," Niall explains.

"Kill the pilot would be my first step."

"I know the pilot, actually," Niall says. "Nice guy, really chill. Close to my own age, actually."

Louis nods, but also rolls his eyes. The pilot still got them stuck on a deserted island (in a roundabout way) and Louis is still pissed.

Nonetheless, they begin searching for branches and foliage to build a shelter. Niall says not to waste time building a big one, in case they manage to get rescued within the next couple of days. 

They collect mostly thick, stumpy branches, leaning them against the palm tree that Niall slept under last night. The leaves are massive, and easily cover the makeshift beams that the branches form. Using grass from within the density of wooded area (which exists about fifty feet from the shoreline), they tie down the foliage to the branches. Niall talks conversationally about what he spends his time doing on his off days (apparently he plays an inane amount of video games. Louis loves video games as much as the next two-armed human being, but he feels a dramatic loss of brain cells simply thinking of how much Niall claims to play.), and how much he's going to miss his nephew while he's stuck here.

Niall's nephew, Theo, reminds Louis of his younger brother, Ernest, when he was Theo's age. Ernie and his twin sister, Doris, are both six now, compared to Theo's one year of Earthly existence, but Louis remembers them as babies fondly.

Louis tells Niall about his university life, his best friend Megan (who is basically the female version of Louis, in all the ways that count), about his six siblings (Niall almost shits his pants), and how this Thanksgiving he was supposed to get an exotic blowjob on some Caribbean island (Niall is jealous). Niall keeps up with Louis's rambling, commenting every so often, and they become fast friends while working hard. The two men have a lean-to, tropical shelter by the time the sun is high in the sky.

"I'm going to get a fucking sun burn, I swear," Niall complains, wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

"You are extremely pale, my friend," Louis says.

"I'm not pale, I'm the finest ivory," Niall objects, hands in the air defensively.

Louis laughs and rolls his eyes. "Whatever, man."

"In Asia, being fair-skinned is considered beautiful."

This earns another playful eye roll from Louis. "We're not in Asia."

Niall rolls his eyes in turn. "Maybe this island is a portal to Asia."

Louis laughs, "you play too many video games."

**

Lou, Gemma, and Emma (Louis will not admit to dedicating an ungodly amount of time to figuring out a way to paraphrase Gemma and Emma's names) manage to gather a hearty amount of fruits and some vegetables. In the middle of the shore, not too close to the treeline (it would suck big dick if the entire wooded area caught on fire, considering it consumes about ninety-eight percent of the island) and not too close to the tide (it would also suck if the fire were to be extinguished by the waves), the women also made a big fire pit.

The fire pit's ring is circular, shaped by rocks about the same size as Louis's head. Pieces of branches and twigs that were no use to Niall and Louis are perfect for the fire pit, and lay stacked within the ring of rocks. 

"Looks good, ladies," Louis compliments.

"Thanks," Emma grins. "Yours, too."

"Niall suggested not doing anything major - regarding the shelter - in case people come looking for us," Louis explains.

"Good. I hope people come soon. I need a good shower," Gemma whines.

Emma nods and agrees, and the two women are launched into conversation about stringy hair and body odour.

Louis and Niall sit around the unlit fire, soaking up the heat of the sun. Lou announces she's going to check on Lux and Danielle, and Gemma and Emma are somehow already deep in discussion about hair.

Despite being stuck on a damn island, sad and without many belongings, Louis feels relaxed. He's stressed, certainly, but also relaxed and he's not sure how that works but it does. The sun is warm, there's an ocean-driven breeze, and he really has no responsibilities at the moment.

**

When Liam, Harry, and Shailene return from making the latrine (Louis holds back from stating how 'Shailene' and 'latrine' rhyme, he doesn't want to be stuck on an island where people have a death wish for him), Liam immediately checks on Danielle. Louis looks away to avoid feeling anything.

Harry immediately begins chatting with his sister, and Louis admires how close they seem to be. Louis and his oldest younger sister, Lottie, are incredibly close. Lottie's only two years younger than Louis, and when they were still young, the two were nearly attached at the hip. He misses his sisters, brother, and parents. He wishes they could all get off the island so he could see them. Do they know his plane crashed? Do they think he's dead?

Louis will probably start crying if he continues to think those thoughts.

So instead he watches Harry as he talks to Gemma. He has full, lipstick-pink lips that shape the words he speaks like it's an art. Louis begins daydreaming, imagining Harry's pretty lips around his cock on this exotic island (admittedly, every other survivor is not in this dream. He's not sure where they are, but frankly doesn't care), when Emma pokes his cheek.

"Whatever you're thinking of, stop thinking of it," Emma whispers in his ear.

Louis sits up immediately. "Did anyone else notice?" He whispers back frantically.

Emma smirks, shaking her head. "You're safe."

Louis sighs in relief, closing his eyes and thinking of the one thing that always fixes these situations: old lady vaginas.

Louis's deep in thought about old lady genitalia when Liam taps him on the shoulder. He's pretty sure at this point his dick has retreated completely back and will be stuck there forever.

"Yeah?" He opens his eyes and looks around. Everyone seems to be in conversation around the fire pit, content and safe.

Excluding Danielle.

"Could you just come around and check on Danielle, please?"

Louis nods and stands up, walking to where Danielle lays in the same spot she slept in last night.

"I really don't mean to bug you, man, but I'm worried," Liam says, sounding as worried as Louis knows he is. 

"It's fine, really. It's what I'm studying to do," Louis smiles reassuringly.

Louis knows it's hard to properly diagnose people - let alone treat them - on an island, but he is going to try. He's only been in med school for a year and a couple months, but that's still more than anyone else.

When the two of them reach Danielle, she looks worse than she did this morning. Louis wishes he had faith in a higher power, just so he could believe she'd make a miraculous recovery without any technology. 

Danielle's skin is usually a light brown tone, Louis knows this because he knew her in the plane, but now she is pale. Niall thought he was pale, but Danielle looks even more so. It's not even a pretty ivory pale. She looks sick, and Louis knows a nasty cut and sickly pale skin does not a winning combination make. She is asleep, laying on her back beneath the tree. She looks peaceful, par for a infinitesimal expression of pain knitting her brows closer. 

"Can you check her leg again?"

Louis tilts his head slightly, pursing his lips and trying to recall everything he knows about what he suspects is wrong.

"There's really nothing I can do. Removing the shirt will just allow more bacteria inside the wound."

Louis feels horrible. At this point, unfortunately, there's nothing he can do.

"What do you think it is?"

Louis looks Liam in the eye, "do you really want to know?"

Liam sighs, "not really."

Louis nods. He understands. He'd likely feel the same way in similar circumstances.

"How's she been?" Louis asks.

"Throwing up, sore, obviously really tired, " he nods toward her sleeping body. "She feels warm. Her forehead feels warm."

Louis nods, thinking over the symptoms she shows. He bends to press the back of his hand to her forehead, and cringes at the temperature. Very, very warm.

"Just - just cherish her while she's here. That's all I can say," Louis timidly shrugs.

Boy, does he feel like shit. He's sure Danielle is approaching her last few days, and he's got nothing to say, nothing to offer. He tries to reassure Liam with a smile, but it feels like a shitty gesture nonetheless.

Liam nods, then crouches to sit with Danielle. Louis watches as he runs his fingers through the curls of her hair.

The peace he felt earlier has seemed to dissolve. Now he feels utterly helpless.

**

Liam pokes his head into the circle of people eating fruit around the fire. He plucks a banana, a coconut shell of water, and a grapefruit. He nods solemnly to everyone else, before retreating back to Danielle. Louis tries not to look, but honestly can't look away. 

He catches Harry staring at him, which is probably the first interaction they have since he woke Harry up by staring at him. He has a playful, cheeky smile, and Louis is helpless to do anything other than blush. Boys like Harry are Louis's ultimate weakness.

And people like Gemma are the ultimate cockblock.

She wiggles in beside Harry and starts babbling about how much she hates the pilot. A few others chime in occasionally throughout her long-winded rant. Niall says he's neutral about it, and everyone accepts that because he claims to know the pilot quite well.

**

In short, the day ends at long last with Niall and Liam carrying Danielle into the shelter, then Lou putting Lux to bed beside Danielle. Everyone sits out by the shore for a little while, not bothering to start a fire, and watching the sun set. It paints whimsical shades of yellows, oranges, and purples in the sky, and Louis feels relaxed yet again. 

Emma, Shailene, and Gemma carry most of the conversation, and Louis tries to stare at Harry without getting caught.

When he finally plops down in the inch of space left for him in the shelter, he groans. This has been the longest two days of his life and he can't wait to leave the island. His body aches, most likely from the strenuous work of shelter-building, and his stomach growls. Two bananas and an orange won't suffice as meals for long. 

Once everyone settles in, he rolls onto his stomach so he can stare at a nearly-naked - except for tiny blue boxers - Harry. It's dark enough that he won't be able to see Louis staring at him (Louis is thankful) but light enough that he can clearly see the planes of his body (Louis is also thankful).

(And perhaps a bit starstruck for a boy he hardly knows.)

(Perhaps.)

(Perhaps he's just going nuts from being on this island.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 10.

The days slink by without any real excitement. 

Lou has taken to helping Lux draw on a rock the number of days they've been on the island. Niall and Liam fish in the tiny lifeboat they brought. They women share clothes from Gemma and Danielle's suitcases (Danielle was ecstatic to discover her pink polka dotted luggage had been salvaged), while the men share from Harry's (that doesn't work very well, though, considering Harry has extremely tiny, but long legs and a far more built upper half). 

The women, par for Danielle, all spend a large amount of time together. They gossip and share stories, laugh about inside jokes that have somehow formed on a fucking deserted island, and above all console Lou. 

On the first day here, Lou had been tight-lipped about her situation, but Emma is like a crowbar. She pries even the toughest motherfucker apart. Nonetheless, everyone had been solemn and distraught to discover that Lou's husband, Tom, died in the crash. Lou says it was instant, likely painless, and for that she is thankful. She wouldn't have wanted him to suffer, and everyone agrees. It's still sad though, and Louis can hear her trying to hide her sobs at night.

Despite Lou's grief, Danielle is without a doubt the saddest state on the island. She's a sickly colourless pale, and projectile vomits everything she injests. Her injury has shown absolutely no signs of healing. In fact, the thick fuchsia ring that circles the edge of the wound has only gotten thicker. Louis knows this means it's getting more and more infected. And if the sign of infection wasn't enough, the garnet red clots of blood that slop out every time Louis washes the cut would be a tell-tale sign. Weird discharges and pus-like liquids seep out and onto the second of Harry's shirts that Danielle has borrowed. She spends her days in the shelter, trying to sleep off the endless fatigue, with a high temperature fever. Louis is unsure, as is everyone else, what the exact temperature of Danielle's heated forehead is, but a touch with the back of a hand says enough about the state of her.

Liam is coping well with Danielle's illness - compared to how Louis would cope in his position. As it is, Louis is nearly physically sick at the thought of what he knows is approaching. Liam is just sad, quiet, and distant. But he doesn't cry.

Selfishly, Louis is glad he doesn't cry. The lump in Louis's throat would surely give way to the tears that are ready to burst if he saw Liam crying. 

And so everyone is pretty quiet. Lux does most of the talking, though it's obvious she understands something is off. Even she doesn't babble too much. Most of the conversation goes towards hatred of the pilot. It's obvious Gemma hates this pilot guy the most.

It's relieving, really, to take everyone's frustration out on the pilot anyways. Niall, who knows the pilot, is the only one who holds back a little. But even Niall is pretty pissed at the pilot.

The days slink by, one by one. Nothing seems to get better, but at least nothing seems to be getting worse. (Except Danielle.) 

Dreary, rainy day music plays in the background of the sad island inhabited by ten barely-survivors of a plane crash. Sad, sad music. Louis is sad. Everyone is sad.

 

**

 

On day 10, when Lux has drawn ten ticks on the boulder, the excitement comes. 

The day begins with Louis mooning over Harry's long deer legs, in his silent reverie. It's just that his legs are so wonderful. They're long and thin but his thighs are just thick enough that Louis wants to bite them. He wants to sit on them and lick them and fuck them. When Harry cuts a pair of his black jeans into shorts, the new hem ending a few inches above his knees, Louis's mouth waters. His skin is smooth, dusted lightly with hair, and such a soft hue of white. 

The day evolves into Louis drooling over Harry's arms. They aren't just any arms, it seems silly to even call them arms. It's like, the title 'arms' just doesn't do them any justice. Boring people have arms, Harry has long sticks of meat growing out of his shoulders. (Or. No. Louis is just going to stick with calling them arms.) Nevertheless, the arms are made from miracles. His forearms appear strong (and are strong, too, if watching Harry lift logs is anything to go by), with just enough muscle built into them and another fine layer of hair. There's also the perfect amount of veins - enough that it makes Harry look even more built, buff, and strong but also not too many that his arms begin to look like a heroin-addicted old person. His skin appears to not hold a tan very well, but Louis thinks he likes that very much. He looks all the world like a little boy but also so much like a fuckable grown man.

Harry is beautiful.

Quite honestly, the entire day is filled with Louis's observations of miniscule things about Harry. Louis sighs inwardly. Megan once told him that once you begin to notice finer details of someone, when you find their flaws and imperfections endearing, when you smile uncontrollably at every little thing they do - you're in love. Louis does all those things. Fuck, he was thinking about how nice Harry's arm hair is. He is so infatuated with his pigeon-toed feet, the way his knees draw to each other like strong magnets. Just this morning he couldn't refrain from beaming when Harry announced he would collect the day's fruit supply. 

(And, okay, Shailene helped Harry. It's so obvious Shailene wants in Harry's pants as much as Louis does. The way she offers to help and laughs at a joke he tells when it's funny, and is good friends with his sister. To think Louis ever called Shailene his saviour. You know what, Shailene? Fuck you. Louis feels betrayed.)

The thing is, though, for all the time (10 days! 10 fucking days!) they've spent on the island, Louis's encounters with Harry have not extended beyond the embarrassing oops and hi moment they shared on their first morning here. Ten whole days ago. Perhaps this means Louis's game is not up to par. Has he really been so ruined by the island life in ten days that he can't hit on a cute guy? In normal circumstances, Louis would have already sucked this guy off. He's slacking.

When Louis establishes he's slacking, he's also helping Niall to make a bigger shelter. On the first day Niall explained how you should never build a big shelter within your first few days trapped on an island, lest you waste all your time and energy on nothing. After the first few days, your chances of rescue slim more and more, and the need for bigger and better resources increase. As Louis helps to build the shelter, he thinks two things: a) his chances of rescue are decreasing drastically, and b) he's slacking.

"Louis, man, you're slacking!" Niall grunts, as he tries to carry his and Louis's weight of the massive log.

"Sorry!" Louis squeaks, realising his mistake and lifting his end again.

He's also slacking in the love department. He should be flirting with Harry, feeding him mango chunks while he runs his fingers through the springy bits of his curls, then deep-throating him into oblivion. Helping Niall is a waste of time. Helping Niall is merely cockblocking him. 

Gemma and Shailene eventually join in, helping to pile and manoeuvre the logs, branches, and foliage into a larger shelter. This shelter is up against 3 different trees, with a sloping roof that faces the vast ocean. Niall explains that this way the winds will blow against the roof and not knock anything over. They fill in the cracks between the branches and logs with seaweed collected by Lou and Lux, leaves plucked off of surrounding trees, and grass ripped out of the ground. Lou and Lux also stockpile mud from the ocean to act as a glue in the crevices, pinning any loose bits down. 

Louis strains to eavesdrop on Gemma and Shailene's conversation. Perhaps Gemma will spill some information about Harry. Such as: Harry is gay. Harry likes Louis. Harry wants to give Louis the tropical blowjob he went on this doomed vacation for.

The only bit of information Louis picks up on is disgusting. They talk about their periods. Louis's stomach turns. He doesn't like vaginas for a reason, and has absolutely zero desire to hear any of this. Naturally, this is when he realises he can't stop listening, now that he's gotten himself tuned into the conversation it appears that he's stuck this way. Even when he actively tries to stop listening, he still hears them discussing what they'll do during Shark Week. 

Yuck.

Louis decides the only way he'll manage to get any of this Harry business off his mind is to talk about it. And the best person to discuss it with is Emma. They became fast friends on the plane and even closer, better friends in the 10 days they've been trapped here. Louis trusts Emma with his life. He needs to recruit her for a swim. 

In the past 10 days they've gone "swimming" 4 times. They tell everyone they're going to swim, wading off the island and into the warm beach water (not too deep, lest the water temperature drops and they lose body heat), and then gossip. It's perfect; they can't be heard by anyone and they don't hold anything back. Louis's confessed everything from how much he misses his family and how he worries they think he's dead, to the time he blew his student-teacher in 10th grade. Emma's confessed a lot, too, mostly regarding how sick she feels over Danielle's condition and how much she wants to smack Lou for being so mopey.

Emma is off with Harry, though. They're fishing off the other side of the island, using makeshift poles and strange worm-like creatures to lure the fish. Emma better not be fucking Harry. Louis feels a flash of anger and jealousy - something he is not familiar with - and wants to fly off the handle and punch Emma. Or maybe just join them for a healthy session of cockblocking and flirting with Harry. Good god, Harry brings an array of emotions out of Louis.

 

**

 

They cook the fish Emma and Harry caught over the fire. Liam and Niall do the cooking, laughing and amicably sharing barbecuing recipes as if they're at some suburban family cookout. Louis watches them with interest. Apparently you can barbecue lettuce. Niall doesn't seem to be very interested in lettuce anyways, unless it can be doused in a plethora of sauces. The topic eventually evolves into what foods can be deep-fried, which Louis dedicates himself to contributing to. Mars Bars can be deep-fried. Butter, pickles, sausages, and beer. Niall perks up even more at that. Liam seems distracted from his worry over Danielle for the time being, and Louis is also thankful. 

Louis has no desire to tell anyone, no less Liam, what he knows Danielle has been plagued with. Everyone seems to have a vague idea of what it might be, but Louis's expertise with nursing tells him for sure. Ironically, they'd just finished studying this in particular before Thanksgiving break. Ironically again, it is Thanksgiving weekend, and Louis doesn't feel thankful at all. Perhaps it would've been easier to have just died. (Terrible, terrible thoughts. Louis has got to stop thinking these things.)

All the girls, par for Danielle - who sits close to the fire and absorbs its warmth, never out of Liam's peripheral vision - talk quietly amongst themselves. Lux is napping in the new shelter and Harry's gone to shower before dinner. Everyone is occupied. Louis slides over to the girls to join their conversation, and they all immediately stop talking. Louis blinks.

"What? Were you talking about me?" He asks.

They all shake their heads, brown and blonde heads of hair bobbing with the disagreement. 

Louis raises an eyebrow skeptically. So they were talking about him.

"I'm not stupid," he says. They all deadpan, staring blankly back at him.

"Debatable," Emma says.

"Excuse you. I'll have you know -"

"We were talking about girl stuff, Louis, you drama queen," Shailene hisses.

Louis pales, proverbially zips his lips and tosses the key away, then promptly leaps away in haste. Yuck. Twice in one day they talk about this? What the fuck? 

Louis walks away from both the cluster of girls and the fire. He plunks down in the warm sand, small heated grains tickling the part of his stomach that's exposed from where his shirt has ridden up. He sprawls out on his back and stares up at the sky. It's clear blue; the blue by the horizon a pale shade, and the blue in the centre of the sky a deeper shade. The sky is ombre. Looking out to sea, it's all open. The world seems small sometimes, when it's only a five minute drive to the next town over, or when it's a hop, a skip, and a jump between buildings in the city. Louis's lived his whole life surrounded by people he knows and loves, grew up in a small town where everyone knew his name, then moved to the city where people seem to be crawling out of the woodwork. It's not the same here. It's daunting almost. There are 10 of them on this island, and no more civilisation for countless hours away. He hasn't known a single person on this island for more than 10 days, might not see anyone he's known forever for the rest of his life. When he looks out, staring at the boundless ocean, all he can see is ocean. 

Maybe this will become a metaphor for his life. He looks out, strains as far as he can to see, but there's nothing but endless blue. Louis hopes this won't become a metaphor for his life.

His mind wanders from there. He thinks of all his siblings and his parents, where they are and what they're doing. Louis knows by now they know the news, they have to. He can picture his mother in tears, absolutely inconsolable. Then he moves on to envision Megan, who has probably heard of the crash on the news. The problem with hearing things on the news is that it's always reported as if the victims are merely a number. 10 people stuck on an island, 75 people in a plane crashed. It's just 10 or 75, or any number. It's depersonalising, without the proper titles and credit to each person. Louis isn't a number, he's a nursing student with friends, a family he was enroute to visiting, and aspirations. Megan is probably worried - if she's heard the news at all. Everyone is probably worried that one of the numbers is unwell. 

Eventually, after the seemingly limitless morbidity in Louis's brain, Louis imagines Harry showering. He's been gone a while. Concept of time, aside for general terms like morning and nightfall, is really nonexistent on the island. Louis could count to 60 repeatedly to time the minutes but can't be fucked to do so. Instead, he just comes up with daydream reasons why Harry's been absent so long. 

Louis's favourite fantasy is that Harry's getting himself off. Louis feels warm at the very thought of it. He pictures Harry standing beneath the stream of waterfall that rushes down in the small waterfall on the west side of the island, as naked as the day he was born, with one hand wrapped around himself. He imagines Harry's face and chest is flushed a handsome shade of pink, his skin pulled taut across his shapely muscles, and his long hair matted to his forehead - a little from the waterfall and a little from sweat. Harry's plush pink bottom lip is probably being punctured by his teeth in a fierce lip bite, one meant to contain moans from being heard. Harry's eyes are likely pinched shut, eyebrows knitted together in concentration, as he pulls his clenched fist across his cock. His remaining hand is caressing his nipples, pinching one or the other every so often, then slowly running down to trace his bellybutton or the ultra-fine layer of hair the makes a straight line up to his navel. Louis hopes Harry is thinking of him as he jerks himself off. 

Niall laughs uproariously from where he stands with Liam, and Louis is instantaneously transported back. Back to a reality where he is probably not the object of Harry's desires, where Harry probably isn't even getting off. Harry's probably just taking a shit or has been mauled to death by a monkey that no one realised was on the island. He rolls onto his side so his back is to everyone while he thinks consciously of old lady vaginas. It's morbid, but Louis doesn't claim to be otherwise. It's practical, honestly.

 

**

 

The fish is actually really good. Louis picked out a few bones here and there, made a pointed attempt to avoid the eyeballs of the fish that lay casually beside the fire. ("Burn those fuckers!" Shailene had suggested. Gemma says she's going to save them and create art with them, though.) Harry had returned only moments before Liam and Niall announced the dinner was ready, with a light pink flush painted across his cherub-like cheeks, and shirtless. Louis liked the idea of Harry mauled by an evil monkey better. Just when Louis Jr had calmed down, Harry walks in looking suspiciously relaxed and fucking shirtless. Louis Jr perked up again, and Louis spent part of dinner hunched over the Himalayas growing in his pants. 

Aside from that mishap, it went well. The girls (again, sans Danielle) stopped discussing their vulgar girl issues and included Louis into the exciting conversation of band members. Gemma didn't participate as much, simply explaining her lack of admiration for penile devices, but still contributed a little. Louis fanned himself as they discussed arms toned from guitar-playing or drumming. Emma gushed about tattooed band members, and the group of them had squealed. Louis blatantly ignored Liam, Niall, and Harry's conversation - whatever it may be. Harry's clearly playing hard to get, and for all the world Louis can play at that game, too.

The sun's setting by the end of it all. Louis sighs, exhausted from the long day. Building a shelter with the help of many others seems easy, but it isn't. They have a limited supply of freshwater and they drink it sparingly. The food is also not abundant. They have to work for it, then spread everything they gather all around evenly. The sun beats down on them all day, sucking all the life and energy out of them, and by the end of the day - Louis is fucking wiped. Danielle throws up in the latrine they built on the first day, with Liam by her side. Niall takes Lux out for a little swim (in which Lou watches for a moment, teary-eyed and all), Harry goes for a nap, and the girls disappear. 

Louis could go for a nap, too. He lays down on the sand again, staring out at the sea. He avoids looking at Niall and Lux as they cramp the view. Yet even with Niall and Lux in view, it's still beautiful and picturesque. The sky is awash with all of the colours of the rainbow in pastel hues. It looks like a watercolour painting, with the sun a blood orange half-circle in the horizon. Louis and his family are probably watching the same sunset. The thought makes him feel warm and safe.

As warm and safe as he feels though, he is still restless. He can't sit still. It starts that he just jiggles his legs, then he begins humming to himself, then finally he's tossing and turning in the white sand. Fuck it, he thinks, and gets up to take a shower. Showering has always helped relieve his tension, and now that it's getting late he'll probably have even more privacy to ...relieve some tension. Everyone is occupied, so there should be no disturbances. He sets out on the trail to the  "shower", the vaguely beaten path that leads to the small waterfall. 

His ears pick up on the noise before he sees it. It's a whimpering, whiney noise, it sounds like something - or someone - is injured. Considering Louis is studying to be a fucking registered nurse, he's terrible in situations like these. His heart begins to race, the muscles in his body feel stiff while his limbs feel loose and soupy. Louis continues along the path but feels disconnected. His first thought - and really his only thought - is that it's one of the girls. The 4 of them have been gone for a little while and this could be why - because one of them is injured. The waterfall comes into view finally and Louis nearly shits his pants.

It turns out it is the girls. The four of them are making this noise. Louis can confirm this as he stands frozen in shock. His muscles wouldn't allow him to move even if he tried. His brain short circuits.

The four of them are a tangled mess beneath the stream of falling water, whimpering and moaning. Now that Louis thinks of it, the noises should've been a dead giveaway. There is no moisture in Louis's throat, he feels disintegrated.

Gemma's sitting on a rock, her legs spread while she leans to her left to kiss Shailene in the messiest, sloppiest kiss Louis's ever witnessed. Emma is behind Shailene with two fingers knuckle-deep in between her slightly parted legs. Emma and Lou kiss in the times Lou comes up for air, after she's had her face smothered in the valley between Gemma's spread legs. The noises they are making are obscene and high-pitched. A million thoughts are racing through Louis's head, the same way his blood is rushing through his veins in sheer terror.

(Louis was going to sit on that very rock while he scrubbed his legs.)

(This is exactly why Louis is gay.)

(Why did Louis decide to take a shower.)

(What did Louis do in a past life that was so utterly fucked up that he would deserve this.)

(There is no need for question marks at the end of Louis's sentences.)

Louis turns on his heel to head back to where he came from, deciding it's best to not announce his (unplanned and unwanted) arrival. He is careful to avoid any twigs that would snap and rouse their attention, instead beelining for the safety of the beach. He's pretty sure he flies because he is running so fast. Louis holds his breath until he sees the shore, the sweet safety of the beach.

Louis was so silly, so naive to leave the beach. Showering is tremendously overrated. One day poor young Louis will learn that anything besides laying perfectly still is dangerous and should not be done. His mind is running on loop: fuckfuckfuckfuckityfuck. 

"Louis!" Liam says, slapping a hand on his shoulder and looking sunny despite Danielle's circumstances. Louis stands still as a statue, stunned into not only silence but also lack of motor skills. "You okay, bud? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Oh, boy, does Louis fucking wish he'd seen a ghost. Why couldn't it be a ghost? A ghost would've been much less traumatising. He stands still and ever-silent. His breathing doesn't slow, his heart rate continues to pulsate like a broken vibrator and oh god Louis doesn't want to think of anything even remotely sexual. He's scarred for life and will never look any of those women in the eye again. They're having an orgy - god only knows how many they've had already, it could be any number - and Louis has been unwillingly celibate. This is his fucking life. 

"Louis?" Liam repeats, his happy puppy demeanour has shifted into that of genuine concern. Does Liam know about these horrific events? 

"Guys! Guys!" Niall starts shouting, ploughing his way on land, Lux in his arms, water splashing everywhere. "Guys!" He bellows again.

Liam gazes to Danielle, who is sound asleep under the shelter, seemingly not bothered by Niall's hollering, then to Niall. Harry, on the other hand, jolts awake, bolting upright and running groggily out of the shelter. Louis doesn't even feel phased. Harry stumbles out of the shelter, rubbing his eyes and looking at Niall with the same concern Liam exhibits. Louis is still stationary. What Niall has to say couldn't possibly break him out of his shock. Lux is wailing, creating quite the racket. Another man, drenched and looking quite ill stands beside Niall. His inky black hair is soaked, his dark facial hair grown out and thick, his pilot uniform sagging so that he looks deceivingly like a drown rat.

"Guys!" Niall says, taking a deep breath, shifting Lux on his hip. "This is the pilot!"

And to think that Louis thought nothing could break his spell of numbing shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to say now before this story really takes off: I LOVE ZAYN AND ZAYN DESERVES ALL THE GOOD IN THE WORLD AND ZAYN IS SO PERFECT ok i'm done


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> liam's piece is taken from one of lemony snicket's novel dedications to his dead ex-fiancee. credit to lemony obviously. not me.

Even Niall, who Louis thinks is the happiest human he's ever met, is pissed at Zayn. Zayn is the pilot, the asshole who got everyone into this mess, and is therefore only on this island for some reason regarding a barbaric death wish. Yes, it's true that Zayn looks like a modern-day Jesus, complete with the kind of beauty that could probably revive dead people, but looks aren't everything. In fact, Louis is so upset that looks mean absolutely nothing. 

Everyone seems to have their own personal reasons as to why they hate Zayn. Louis hates him because he was on his was to paradise and now he's here. His family and friends are probably scared and worried and - yes - Louis is scared and worried, too. Zayn apologises profusely but no one will have any of it. Especially not Gemma, who took one look at him and attacked him. Thankfully (or perhaps unfortunately) Liam and Harry were there to pry her off of him, but Louis still made a mental note not to get on Gemma's bad side after seeing the scratches and bruises Zayn was sporting almost immediately after.

No one takes pity on Zayn, so Zayn takes pity on Zayn. He collects food for everyone, doing double the work everyone else does, fishes so much Louis honestly believes they will've fished out the ocean in less than a week, and even assists Louis in boiling the water for Danielle's cleaning. As much as Louis doesn't want to work with Zayn, it can't be denied that Zayn is a willing helper. And perhaps it's just because Zayn is trying to prove himself and his worth to everyone, but no matter. Selflessness is selflessness is selfishness. 

And cleaning is needed. Danielle's wound is only getting worse - leaking discoloured discharges and pus, emitting a putrid stench, and turning her entire leg pink. Danielle can't keep anything down, not even a drop of water, before throwing up as she lays down. She has no energy to move anymore and her motor skills match that of a physically disabled person. The thing is that Louis knows exactly what this is, he knew from the moment he laid eyes on the injury, and he's sure at this point that everyone else has figured it out too. It's not rocket science. What is rocket science, however, is figuring out how to treat it. They don't have the chemicals to treat illnesses and wounds, nor do they have inpatient care at a hospital. They have saltwater boiled over a fire that was created by rubbing two rocks together. They have people willing to care, but not people able. Every time Louis looks at Danielle's pale skin, feels for her pulse as it zings through her body, listens for her fast-paced breathing, or watches her vomit, he feels worse. 

Danielle's engagement ring and wedding band glitter in the sun on her left ring finger, looking like some sort of poetic irony for the fact that she doesn't glimmer anymore. She lays mostly motionless, par for infinitesimal movements and tiny but deep breaths, except for the speed of her breathing and the blinks of her eyes when she lays awake. She sleeps mostly, consumed by fatigue. Liam sits with her when he's not volunteering to help someone out. He holds her hands, tracing the protruding veins of her wrists, circling the tips of his fingers around her rings or smoothing the pads of his fingers over the chipping nail polish she wears. Louis watches on silently as he twirls his fingers through her curly natural hair, brushing the twigs out of it and placating the devil of her heart rate. He feels for her pulse in her wrists and neck as she sleeps, never quite sure if it's slumber or something more. 

Zayn suggests hand and feet massages, something that encourages improved circulation, and Liam seems to ignore him at first. Zayn looks taken aback every time someone ignores him or shuns him, but not with Liam. Zayn's expression appears as if he feels wholly deserving for the way Liam ignores him. After all, if it weren't for Zayn's shitty plane flying skills, Liam and Danielle would both be happy and healthy in the Bahamas together, soaking up the tropics and all of its goodness. Instead, Louis notices Zayn watching on with utmost silence and regret as Liam smooths his fingertips and hands over the planes of Danielle's weak and fading body, ill and fallen on a deserted island somewhere nobody knows.

Louis's heart feels a tiny, tiny spark - resemblant of the ones produced when the rocks to start the fire are first rubbed together, friction first creating its reaction - when he catches Liam giving Danielle a hand massage. He's not entirely sure the meaning of the spark, the miniscule jumpstart in his heart. He's been emotional and stressed since they arrived in this hellish place and, really, it could be any number of things. It's almost like you can physically see the love Liam has for Danielle being transferred into her body through the loving way he massages her hands. He's soft and gentle and Louis heart isn't strong enough for this. 

Louis flees to take a shower. The time there's no company, no dreaded orgy beneath the waterfall, and something about that makes Louis upset. He feels it in his bones that Danielle's time will be coming to a close soon; he feels it in the air he breathes and in every pump of his heart. He thinks everyone else can feel it, too. Even little Lux doesn't seem overjoyed like toddlers should. Everyone on the island is wan and gloomy, despite the ever-present sunshine. There's nothing to take one's mind off of the impending doom that will be coming soon. Louis stands beneath the flood of water that gushes down the waterfall, runs his finger through his untamed hair, and tries to focus on the blood that pumps steadily through his body.

They'll get off the island soon. Right? He'll be safe and at home, far away from exotic locations and the abundant lack of everything. He'll forget the way his heart feels as if it's constricting every time he looks at any of his fellow inhabitants. Right? 

Things will improve even if they don't get off the island.

Right?

 

**

 

Danielle dies on day 12. It happens in the middle of the night, the most ungraceful (and also thankfully the only ungraceful) death Louis has ever known. Everyone is peacefully sleeping at the time, quiet snores and the gentle whisper of the wind. Sleep unable to reach Louis, he lays awake, on his side, feeling the body heat seeping out of Emma and Gemma around him, and listening to the audible wet noise of Lux sucking her thumb. Liam, Louis knows, is awake, watching over his fading wife. He hears quiet murmurs, likely words of love, being whispered into Danielle's ear. Louis can't hear what Liam says exactly, just a soft humming noise to represent speech. 

Tears prick in Louis's eyes as he mulls over Liam's fate. Danielle's fate is obvious, it's short and will come to a close soon. Danielle's fate was always to be like this, Louis thinks. Liam's fate is far worse, destined to love someone for a short amount of time, to love them with his heart and soul, only for them to fall ill quickly after a horrendous plane crash and die. Liam will be forever sentenced to a life of love and loss, alone on this island and without the woman who has captured his heart. The lump in Louis's throat grows, swelling large and thick with the promise of sobs. He tries to focus on his breathing, imagining a fantasy where they are rescued immediately and Danielle survives and everyone is happy. 

The lump in Louis's throat threatens to punch him in the backs of his eyes, forcing the tears to flow. Louis tries to hold back - tries, tries, tries. Then there is a loud gasp, a choked off breath, the sound of painful gagging. Liam makes a terrified noise, high in his throat yet low and gutteral. Louis's tears dry immediately, along with his throat and all of the liquid in his body. He jerks up instantly, swivelling to face Liam and Danielle. Liam is hunched over Danielle, cradling her while she spasms.

Liam sobs, shaking and wracking through his body. His face is red, a drastic contrast compared to the paleness that is embedded in Danielle's skin. She spasms, a mild seizure, Louis knows, and then quits altogether. There is no more movement - not a bat of an eyelash or a huff of a breath. She's still and motionless in Liam's arms, while Liam is convulsing in his tears.

Louis knows this kind of crying. The kind that involves hyperventilating and harsh movement, the kind that screws your face up and hurts your lungs. It's the painful kind. The sort of crying you do when you've lost someone you love, when you are damagingly sad; the kind that bruises your heart and picks away at the interior of your brain. This is the weeping of someone who will never, ever get back what they've lost.

He waits a moment for the shock to set in, feels it twinging through his bloodstream, settling like a handful of pebbles in his stomach, then moves to Liam. He steps over Niall, who sleeps soundly despite the fact that Liam is nearly above him and not trying to muffle his noise, and kneels beside Liam. Placing a hand of comfort on Liam's back, Louis rubs soothingly. 

"Hey, buddy," Louis says. He's not sure what to say, really.

For a moment, Louis thinks no one will rouse. He tries to formulate a plan regarding how he'll handle this on his own. Everyone seems unbothered in their sleep, not even a twitch of the nose. Louis keeps rubbing Liam's back and Liam keeps crying. Danielle couldn't possibly look more lifeless in Liam's arms. The very second that thought creeps in Louis's head, Harry jolts upward. Louis looks at him, overcome with a million thoughts. Harry is so beautiful, the object of every single one of Louis's desires, yet he feels nothing but pain and loss right now.

Harry climbs over the sleeping bodies, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. He meets eyes with Louis and they exchange a look of sadness. Louis would much rather be exchanging a look of anything else, would much rather his second exchange with Harry in any other situation, but Louis swallows down his flowering love. He and Harry smooth hands across Liam's back, holding him through his pain and sadness, and watch as everyone else wakes one by one. The gut-wrenching sound of cries ring through the night on the island, the sharp knife of pain and grief stabbing everyone in the wake of the moment. The stars in the sky aren't shining tonight, not even a glint of moonlight beams in the sky. Louis doesn't bother to hold back his tears once everyone is crying as well.

When morning comes, it's cloudy. Morning doesn't bring anything new or exciting. The day is lifeless, excuse the pun. Liam cries all day, pained sobs and noises that shatter Louis's heart. Louis cries too, and is thankful he doesn't have a mirror because he knows he'd look awful. In fact, everyone cries. They sit together, heads on shoulders and eyes pinched shut, crying for hours. Even baby Lux, who is evidently still a baby, knows something is wrong. She wails too, wanting to cuddle anyone who'll hold her all day long. Zayn looks remorseful, pale with dread, like he wants to apologise but isn't quite sure how to do so or if anyone would accept his apology anyways. Louis and Emma cry together, hugging each other and soaking their faces with tears. 

When everyone's done crying, tear ducts bone dry and unable to produce anything more, Liam quietly requests a funeral, a proper burial. Lou takes Lux to pick flowers while Zayn, Harry, and Niall dig the grave. Louis watches solemnly while Liam removes Danielle's wedding band and engagement ring, pocketing the ring set. Liam explains that it's because he wants to remember their love with something physical, but Louis says he doesn't need to explain himself. Louis spends his time with Liam, consoling him and trying to console himself, too. 

The burial is a mess of tears and choked off, shitty speeches. Liam and Niall lay Danielle to rest in the hole that's been dug in the middle of the treed area. There's obviously no coffin, so Danielle lays limply in the ground. Her clothes are stained with blood and other bodily fluids, dirt and death. No one wants to salvage the clothing. Her eyes of shut, her mouth closed but her lips parted ever-so slightly in the middle. Lux lays a handful of flowers over her chest, kissing Danielle's cold forehead gently. 

Liam gives a eulogy. It lasts about 20 minutes, time needed to break for sobs and recover, leaving everyone an emotional mess. Harry gives a eulogy as well, which lasts more than 20 minutes, if not only for his slow speech but for his whimpering sobs too. After Harry, it's an unspoken decision they will all speak. Every islander takes their turn - some long and some cuttingly short - sharing their piece on Danielle. No one fails to mention her beauty or her love for Liam. Besides Liam, Emma and Louis were the only ones who knew Danielle before her injury, the only ones who saw her raw joy and excitement for life and love. Shailene saw Danielle's pre-illness face, too, on the journey to the island. The three who knew Danielle before she succumbed to the pain and suffering all described her vividly for her enthusiasm for love and life, explaining how she had a flavour for beauty and beauty seemed to have a favour for her as well. 

Louis wants to make a joke about something, anything, to lighten the air, but it would be lost in the way his voice cracks when he tries to force down his tears. 

Liam throws in a flower, moments before Niall and Harry move to cover the hole, and says one last thing. Louis's heart shatters into tinier fragments than before, despite him not knowing that was even possible.

"When I met you, you were pretty and I was lonely. Now I'm pretty lonely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao told y'all i don't like payzer!!!!!!!!!!


End file.
